My Life as an African Gypsy

Like nearly every afternoon I furl my colorful capulana high in the air letting it come to rest upon the perfect patch of grass in my backyard, diaper bag hung across my shoulders - full of toys to appease the smallest, and that very small one balanced just so on my hip as I straighten the corners and holler a "Go away!" to the big stinky dog and "Just a minute!" to my oldest.

Somewhere nearby she sits, thin line coiled and resting next to her while her perfection of crotchet work lays delicately across her lap and her hook in hand continually weaving beauty. One of her two shawls, either the light pink or sky blue, will be draped around her neck, and while usually leaving one remaining length draped over her missing breast, around us it isn't so important, so it may be flailed to the back exposing her tumor, reminding me that my dear friend is not well.

Slowly as the weeks pass and we spend leisurely mornings and afternoons together and I learn more of her and of her story - the good and the bad. But isn't that all of us? Isn't that knowing someone.

She stands hunched over, gripping the tiny hand of my youngest teaching her how to walk, encouraging her efforts and excitingly giving praise to small victories. She sings 'Happy Birthday' to the older one so she won't be sad it isn't her birthday coming up and claps joyously at the end so she might feel the extra attention.

She sits on my couch discouraged she had to take her medication again and reminds me she's handed it to God and He can heal when He is ready - her faith never wavering. I sit across from her wondering if and when we should talk about death... again.

I convince myself it is nobility that wants her to go home and spend her last days with her family, while in all honesty it is probably more motivated by fear and dread of having to walk that road with her. I hope there is truly a mix of the two. I do hope she gets to teach her own grandchild that is due in a few weeks how to walk. Maybe I will be wrong. I would love for her to laugh her big laugh in my face and shag her finger at me how I didn't believe enough. I'd love that.

So glad that she and I have one thing in common - we know we serve a powerful God and we know He is ultimately in control.

And so we wait on Him.

I started Angela Thomas's Bible Study Brave toward the end of January. It has been good. Short homework with good truths. This week was on discipline. I joked with the ladies in my study that they may want to work out once or twice before starting the week, just to feel OK about pushing through.

Here's the deal. I have a hard time being super consistent with studying the Word. Since having babies and being pregnant I just feel tired a lot, and rarely feel like running to grab something to study when I do get a quiet moment. Usually I want quite the opposite - mindless activity. Mind you, the Lord has been incredibly gracious to me during this season and teaches me and whispers to me throughout the chaos and the beauty of motherhood.

Still I found myself jotting down my list of areas in need of discipline and studying the Word easily went to the top of my list of needs. Angela reminds us during this week that our battle against being undisciplined is spiritual, not a matter of will. She uses the verses in Romans 8:26-27 that talks about the Spirit interceding for the saints according to the will of God. I found comfort in turning this area over to the Spirit and asking Him to grow this desire within me and not trying to conjure up a particular routine to follow and fail at.

My Mom brought me a couple of devotionals when she came. I am pretty behind on the swing, but on Monday I started Ann Voskamp's One Thousand Gifts devotional. I wanted to. It called to me. Wouldn't you know, it is shaking me up. Because I found such joy in my new habit of expressing thankfulness, I felt prompted to share with a few ladies I am close to at the hospital. I do believe that there is freedom in thankfulness, and as Ann suggest perhaps that is where we find peace. I want that for those ladies at the hospital. I want that for me. After talking with them and seeing their interest, I went out and bought 3 of the ladies journals and pens and then came home and made them as fancy and beautiful as I could. I took them back, and they too are starting a list of thankfulness.

Some things from my list:

A husband who works hard with his hands
Listening to Jovie's babbling in the early morning
Listening to Anaya as she makes up stories
Hot coffee and rusks
My husband's heart for adoption

I could go on and on. Things I'd become numb to. Things of daily life that are worthy of giving thanks to God, the giver of all things good. And do  you know what? I am finding joy there. Anaya was telling me about some flowers she saw today, and I asked her if she thought we should thank Jesus for those and how good they smell. I prayed out loud right then. I want to raise children of thanks, who know Who gives good gifts. Everyday.

And so, since Monday, I believe the Spirit of God has been stirring up a hunger inside. A hunger for knowing Him - right now found in gratefulness.

Post holidays and our trip up north, I found myself in a funk. I was tired in a weary sort of way, not necessarily in a 'need to sleep' kind of way, though I am sure that could have been attributed as well. I was grouchy and snappy by the end of everyday. Jovie had been especially clingy and especially fussy. I had wanted to be more purposeful about learning activities with Anaya in the new year, but it hadn't happened. Instead our home had been invaded by mice and pooped all over, I felt like I was allowing my family to live in filth, while I just couldn't managed the deep cleaning that needed to be quick enough. My husband had not had near the attention he deserved, and yet I just couldn't muster any energy up.

I felt like a failure.

I had organized a girls' night out with a couple of friends, which hadn't happened in about 9+ months. Needless to say, I was super excited. That afternoon, before going out, in the most loving and concerned way, my husband brought up my condition. He couldn't have done it any better than he did.

What I felt? I must have been failing big time. He noticed and could feel it. I told him, through tears, I needed to process and we could chat later.

I went to my bathroom, shut the door, and sobbed. I was weary and unable to see anyway to change my state, thus no way to stop failing. Eventually I blew my nose, wiped my face, and went back to taking care of my girls, resolved that I'd try to change something. My husband kissed me and reassured me of his love, which I knew was never failing.

That night I went out and had some of the yummiest Italian food I've eaten in my life, chatted and life about everyday nothingness, and ended with a bowl of ice cream. I felt refreshed.

When I got home, I climbed in bed with my hubby, and we chatted. I had realized it had been about a month since I had gotten together with friends or gone to the hospital to do ministry. My Bible study group had been on holiday break so I had been lacking my weekly ladies meeting and encouragement. We had taken our 2 week trip up north during that time, but it was 24/7 with the girls and Jon. 

This phase of life with babies is all consuming; it is easy to get caught up and lost amidst it all. I guess I just realized I have to be purposeful about taking breaks, socializing, and ministering. And on top of that, not feeling guilty for it! Jon always encourages me to get out more, but I place guilt on myself for leaving the girls with him, when is so happy to keep them... and happier still to have a happy wife! Since then, I've been a new person.

This pregnancy just continues to move along. My heart has grown so fond of my little Karasi and I catch myself dreaming about the fun days ahead with my three little girls. (Seriously? Pinch me! So fun!) I sometimes cannot even get my head around the fact that there will be another baby passing the afternoons with us in our living room. (Well... the whole day. Ha!) I feel so full now... surely my cup will overflow. Our family has been so blessed. I am feeling quite well with little to complain about. I get aches and pains from time to time, but I think those would probably come with or without pregnancy. I like my Tums, as indigestion visits many nights. My belly continues to bulge, and I dread the inevitable discomfort which is around the corner. Such is pregnancy though, this business of making babies. I do look forward to an extended break in the future.



Anaya is turning 2 in less than a month. We like to watch videos of her from earlier this year; boy has she changed! She is so grown up, telling me which shirt she prefers to wear, making up stories before nap time, eating on her own with her fork, passing an hour reading books on her own, etc. We are working on things like sorting buttons by color or shape, counting objects not just knowing numbers, playing 'Which one is missing' which works on her memory, and practicing very basic phonetics. I do not spend near the amount of time working with her as I would like or she would like, but I figure this is a season. She is still a little sponge, taking in everything! She wants to be just like Dada:

My Little Singer














Jovie is doing well. The last few weeks have been a little extra fussy and I found myself very tense and frustrated with her. She cut her first tooth, and I figured that must be it, until my wise hubby asked me if I was producing the same amount of milk. Jovie seemed to be super hungry and gobbling her solids ravenously. That afternoon he gave Jovie a bottle and I pumped. Oops. Not close. SO, this week we are working on boosting my supply. If we cannot remedy it, I will begin to supplement. Boo! Not what I want to do, but Jovie's health and happiness is most important. (Not to mention my sanity.) In other news, Jovie wants to stand, reach, grab for everything all day! I think she'll crawl before long, and this Mama will be happy. I think she'll enjoy some freedom and independence that way and give her best attempt to catch up with her sister.


 

Who is that big girl???

Jon is doing great. We have re-introduced gluten, and much to our hearts' content, we believe it is NOT the problem! We are pretty convinced it is an allergy/reaction to a group of fruits/veggies called Nightshades. Check it out if you want. Most commonly, they cause problems with joint pain and arthritis, but sometimes eczema. Go figure. Jon is currently taking an online course in computer programming and easily excelling, which is not a surprise to me. He is such a natural. Anyways, he is just getting his feet wet and we'll see what the future holds for him in that regard.

We are getting anxious for my parents to arrive on the 15th of February. AH!

There's a little update! Hope you enjoyed.

Anaya is 22 months old and will be turning TWO before I know it. What?! (A common Anaya-saying) She is such a blessing to Jon and me. She now knows all her colors. (Black, white, brown, yellow, orange, red, green, blue, purple, pink) Her favorite color is yellow... everything must be yellow. She counts to 12 in English and is learning to count to 10 in Portuguese. She sings most of the ABC's, but often gets out of order or decides to skip a big section. She knows more than half of her letters by recognition and an object to go with them, such as "B for baby" or "G for Gasher". She LOVES singing. She has mastered "Twinkle, Twinkle"  and "Old McDonald" which are by far her favorites and many other complete songs from our kids class. "The B-I-B-L-E" is especially cute, as is "I Love You Lord" her bedtime song that we sing to her and she now sings to baby as baby goes down for her nap. She talks and talks with a vocabulary I could no longer list. If we point to something and ask her what it is and she doesn't know, she responds with a peppy, "I don't know what that is!" And when we tell her, she likely has stored it away for good, knowing it from then on. She has begun memorizing her books, 'reading' pages at a time. She enjoys praying. Last night we were thanking Jesus for everything we saw, from birds to baby's swing. Other things she enjoys - bath-time, the sprinkler, coloring, caring for baby, rolling in the grass (a new found joy), doing dizzy in the swing, picking flowers and smelling them, climbing, jumping, etc.

Jovie is now 6 months! Time is flying with this one. She is such a funny girl and already all her own, very different from her sister. We are slowly getting to know her, which is such a cool privilege as a parent. She is my snuggle puppy and very much a Mama's girl. She would love for me to carry her on my hip all day long. She is sits fairly confidently, however, does have her occasional topple, already resulting in a few head bonks and tears. She hates her tummy, so while she is capable of rolling, prefers not to. She plays nicely with toys, now flapping her arms to make the noisy ones shake.  Everything goes to the mouth. Everything. She has totally figured out her jumperoo and goes to town in that thing, loving when you praise her. She enjoys music quite a bit. She loves to make raspberries with her mouth, spitting everywhere. I frequently hear her doing this in bed. Today is day 3 of food, and she is starting to cooperate. She is eating oatmeal with a little bit of applesauce in it. We'll introduce bananas soon. She adores any attention Anaya will give her and will laugh at the smallest action Anaya makes in her direction. She loves her. A favorite activity is chasing Anaya around the house yelling. She likes a lot Gasher and is testing his kid-proof-ness by frequently getting a firm grip on his lip. He handles it well and returns for more torture, tail wagging.

Baby #3 is growing well. I am 12 weeks now and beginning to feel more energetic and less nauseous. And Jon sings "Hallelujah" as his wife might start waking up before 8 in the morning and help with the dishes again. ;) I have a rockstar husband. We should find out the gender next month, which is always exciting. I love giving our babies names in the womb and calling them by name instead of 'baby'. I feel like we get one step closer to knowing this little resident in my tummy.

I am so blessed to be Mama to these three.

The image is burned into my mind. After 3 years in the hospital here, little shocks me and leaves me disturbed. Yesterday was the exception.

I sat across a lady who begged me to let her go home. She told me over and over again that she is tired. I explained that I didn't know how to help. I am not the doctor; therefore, I cannot get permission for her to leave. She would have to stay at least one more night in order to talk with her doctor the next morning, whom I am sure won't let her leave; she is in too bad of a condition. I felt a little helpless. We tried to call her family, but she didn't have the right number.

Puss oozed from her eyes and drained out her mouth. Her skin was like thin tissue paper and where it was attached to the body it was bubbling with blisters. Where it wasn't attached was bright pink raw tissue. Her teeth chattered against the sopping gauze she held beneath her chin. Her words were hard to understand and it pained me to tell her once again, "I don't understand," forcing her to talk more.

When it was time to leave, she told me she wanted juice. I asked her what kind she liked and she told me, "Coca Cola." I told her I'd get it and then went quickly to a shop at the hospital and brought it back. I could hardly imagine it possible for her to drink from a can, but she willed the strength, sat up, grabbed it, and started drinking right away. I will never forget her gulping the cold coke as blood poured like a fountain from the new raw spots on her cheeks, soaking the sheet beneath her.

On the way home I felt a little sick. I wanted to weep, but the sobs were caught in my throat. She is someone's daughter, someone's sister, someone's mom. She is human. I just can't imagine it being me or someone close to me.

I got home, fearfully disinfected my phone, and told my hubby about it. I went to bed thinking and praying for her.

Oh that the Lord would have mercy on this woman in some tangible way.

It was late.

I looked around thinking how strange it was, these roads that brought us here, together him and I. I glanced over his scars thinking up possible stories for how he got them, remembering the life he lived, a real life he lived, full of joys and deep sorrow. There was a deep pang in my chest. I replayed memories of him kicking the bottle hung from the tree and hopping on the roof with Jon, unhindered by the crutches and the loss of his leg. I now watched his pulse beat in his neck, too fast. I stroked his limp hand, hoping he felt my presence, hoping he felt His love.

He wasn't liked much, having a bit of a disrespectful attitude. He didn't fool me, though. You know the kids with chocolate all over their faces who are insistent they didn't eat the cookie? That's how I saw him, his head held just a little too high, his laugh of confidence wavering a bit at the end. He'd been hurt by those who should have been closest to him. He was scared. Who could blame the kid? I could see glimpses of tenderness, glimpses of the Savior in him.  

Just that morning the Spirit rested heavy upon me, my nose pressed to the floor, my tears pooling on the dark hardwood. My girls and I cried out, "Come on, Jesus!" I yearned for Him to come, for Him to save. I wanted so desperately for this to be the one we saw healed. I conjured up all the reasons why God would receive so much glory this time; I thought of how sometimes the Lord just acted in compassion. (I would lie if I said this was the first time I did this routine.) I was lead to look up his name, Samuel - "God has heard". Surely Lord. I dared to hope to believe.

I threw on a sweater and tucked my English and Portuguese Bibles under my arm and hopped in the car. It was my shift, Jon and Alice having taken the hours before.

There I sat stroking his hand; it didn't look as if a miracle was coming. He was peaceful though, pain managed nicely by the morphine, yet still able to talk and respond to questions.

A call came the next morning. He had been given a bath and then he died. Just like that. Life gone.

Covered in scripture, songs, prayer, and faith - he died.  

And I remember once again, that this is why we are here.

Now feel sorry for me. Waaaa.

Okay. Now we're over it. ;)

Jon and I are committing to 6 months of this lifestyle to see if helps his eczema. When he was no longer having breaks between his outbreaks and he was using steroid cream almost daily, we decided we had to figure something out. So we're giving it a shot and if it helps, it'll be our new lifestyle.

Currently I have 3 bowls of coconut shavings soaking in effort to make my own coconut milk and coconut flour. I bought pre-packaged stuff to test the waters, then I hope to buy fresh coconuts to use, as they are cheap here.

I've also experimented with white and brown rice flour and tapioca flour, though my processor and coffee grinder can only get the flour semi-fine. I am so grateful that my brother-in-laws are headed over in 2 weeks, and they will bring along an electric grain mill. (Cheers broke out across the land) These vary in price, so I think I got a well reviewed mid-ranged one. I'll give review after I test it out a bit. This should make life a lot easier, as current rice flour takes blending about 1 cup at a time, and then running about a 1/4 through the coffee grinder multiple times, and even then we get some crunchy raw rice.

We are headed to South Africa this weekend,, and I hope to find a few other helpful things. I was graciously given a little jar of xanthan gum and I was excited to find out that I can buy it in South Africa without breaking the bank, though I've yet to experiment with it. I couldn't find it here in Mozambique. I am determined to figured a good all-purpose flour blend with ingredients I can find here. This sweet-loving baker needs me some cake, pies, and cookies... not to mention my tortillas and bread.

Coconut milk has been an awesome substitute for us. I've been buying cans, though I hope to make it myself. I've used it in mashed potatoes, butternut soup, bread, etc. and it has worked beautifully, without a coconut taste.

Previously I was a confident cook/baker taking pride in the compliments of friends and guests, now I am floundering, apologizing, and often on the brink of tears. Sigh. Give me some time. I keep telling Jon that I am confident I can make gluten free food that is yummy and that people won't be able to tell the difference. Only time will tell.

God has been exposing deep heart issues, forcing me to be honest with myself. Yesterday we had a friend at the hospital receive news that his daughter had died from Tuberculosis in a hospital up north. So here is the short, he has cancer, his 15 year old son had cancer and has just finished Chemo, and now his daughter is dead. My first reaction was to shake my head and think it was an unfortunate situation. I wasn't grieved though. No tears welled in my eyes, no sorrow in my soul. That bothered me. Had my heart become a little numb to death here in Mozambique? Death just happens. Often. People expect it to happen. It isn't so sad for them.

It is easy to grieve and have compassion on suffering that is in your face and before your eyes, for the person with obvious physical pain. But what about the family? What about emotional pain, that which we don't see, especially here in Mozambique, where tears are weakness and are rarely shed?

I forced myself to really think about the situation, what had happened, what this man was experiencing. I thought about my own daughters and my own husband. There. I felt deep in my gut.

I don't want to grow accustomed to suffering, to death.

From there the Lord said, "That isn't enough Layne."

Jon and my first reaction was, "Let's get him home." We'd pay what we needed to, but we would be determined to make it happen and quick. His family needed him right now. He should be there for the funeral. I felt no attachment to the money, glad to see it go to a good cause, to be a blessing. We'd pay for the round trip, making sure he would be back for the next round of Chemo.

But the Lord began to prod. Layne, you are so free with your money, and that is good, but are you so free with your life? As I began to think, I realized I had to be okay with more.

I am a planner; I hate last minute things. I don't do well with my husband traveling. There it was though, we needed to offer for Jon to drive him, which would be an overnight trip. I wrestled a bit, wanting the money to be good enough, wanting to make excuses.

No good.

So I let go. I swallowed the lump in my throat, got myself back to thinking of the grief this husband and wife must be feeling, especially the wife at home alone, now needing to plan a funeral for her own young daughter. I vocalized it and told Jon we needed to offer it.

Turns out, for various reasons, the bus was the better option for this man. I won't lie, I felt a bit relieved, but my heart had still been exposed, challenged and hopefully changed.

In my exploration of how to teach preschool for Anaya, I was exposed to light tables as a means of learning. There are endless activities to use them. (check google, Pinterest, playathomemom.blogspot.com, etc.) Put it this way, just about everything is more awesome on a light table. Well I soon decided we must have one. Because I have a handy hubby, we came up with a plan, and as of today we are proud owners of our very own light table! (Said with bursting excitement)

Here is how we did it:

Bought a clear plastic storage tub with a flat smooth top

We painted the inside silver to reflect the light well. (I bought heat resistant spray paint, because I didn't want to worry at all.)


Bought 2 florescent lights to put inside


Hot glued them to the bottom of the tub and connected the two cords


Drilled a hole in the side for the cord to come out


Added an extension cord with and on/off switch


Cut a piece of parchment paper to fit under the lid, so you don't see the bulbs straight through the clear top


And ta-da! Light table!
Love that it is plastic - no worries about breaking or harming it and everything can easily be wiped off. And the top has a little lip, which is great for things simply staying on the table and will be great for playing with paint and sand.


Anaya is already enjoying it


Our discovery bottles just got a lot cooler



Showing how mixing colors makes new colors!

I've only had the table a few hours, and I am loving it! Okay, okay, Anaya is too. ;) Here's to learning in fun ways!

My new addiction. I love these! Old plastic soda bottles turned into toys/learning tools. Be sure and hot glue the lids shut so you don't end up with a mess on your hands.




Anaya calls the pink one the "pretty one". Water + glitter. If you use shampoo, hair gel, or corn syrup, it will fall slower, but those things are a little expensive here and the water is still fun.

The green on is water + food coloring + dish soap. Bubbles!


I cut some ribbon to watch float around. It is fun to watch float around.

Next one is toothpicks + rice. Cool shaker that kind of sounds like rain.


 Water + food coloring + marbles and shampoo + marbles. We can compare the way the marbles fall.

And the last one is very versatile. I cut up the letter of the alphabet and put them in peas. You roll the bottle around searching for different letters. You can put plastic items/animals and do an eye-spy. Older kids can do sight words or spelling list. So great! Anaya actually likes this one a lot.

I am going to make a static electricity one this afternoon when one of my bottles dries. You put little pieces of styrofoam and little pieces of tissue paper then rub the bottle on the carpet and on your hair. Fun!

I'm proud of myself keeping up with Anaya's daily activities. While we will cycle through through them and repeat, for now most days are new and exciting.

This one is one of the easiest and one of my favorites for working with colors. Get 2 pieces of contrasting colors of construction paper and then go hunt for a variety of toys those colors. I hide them in a gift bag and hand them to Anaya one by one and have her place them on the correct sheet of paper. At first I thought the activity was a little too old for her, but by the second time we tried she understood. I don't like her to become frustrated, so if she decides to play with the toys instead of placing them on the paper, no biggie, we try again later. She now asks to do it from time to time. 

This was another fun one for Mama, because I got to be part of the reward. YUM. =) I baked cookies in the shapes of ABC and 123 and then whipped up some frosting colored red, blue, and green. I  let Anaya frost and sprinkle her cookies. She'd repeat was letter it was and what color she was using. Then it was off to the bath. Ha! Hard to believe Anaya used to not like feeling different textures and getting dirty.




Then today we played with Russian nesting dolls. Aunt Tara, who knew when you bought me these in Russia, my daughter would love playing with them? She had so much fun and played for such a long time, content as could be. She liked saying things like "big one" and "little one".